


May Luck Be Yours on Halloween

by freyjawriter24



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Apple Bobbing, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, but also a little bit of learning for Heaven and Hell, halloween party, halloween party food, musical statues, so it's cautiously optimistic too, spooky level 0, the doughnut game, yes this fic has a lot of silly stuff in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyjawriter24/pseuds/freyjawriter24
Summary: A few years after the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t, Heaven and Hell decide to try and understand why the Ineffable Plan allowed Earth and humanity to be saved. According to the Antichrist, the first stop on their ‘Experience Earth’ tour should be a Halloween party. Cue the most awkward few hours of everyone’s existence.***Fic written forEveningStarcatcherfor the Trickety-Boo Halloween Exchange.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28
Collections: Trickety-Boo! Exchange





	May Luck Be Yours on Halloween

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EveningStarcatcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningStarcatcher/gifts).



> _“When black cats prowl and pumpkins gleam, may luck be yours on Halloween.” - Unknown_
> 
> Level 0 spooky, but lots of silliness and the occasional smattering of cuteness too. I hope you enjoy it!

“This is a completely ridiculous idea,” Pepper said firmly.

“Yeah, but it’ll _work_ ,” Adam insisted. “Think about it. A religious holiday that’s been given a makeover of spooky and scary stuff, but it’s all just a cover for kindness and community. That’s like Heaven and Hell and Earth all rolled into one!”

“Well, I agree that it has all the right _elements_ ,” Wensleydale said slowly. “But the subjects of this particular experiment are highly volatile, so _actually_ there might still be some issues.”

“That’s what _I’m_ here for,” Adam said. “To keep them all in line.”

“I agree with Pepper,” Brian put in. “It’s ridiculous and it’ll be super chaotic and there’s a solid chance they’ll end up destroying either the village hall or the planet.”

Adam looked at him intently. Brian managed to keep a straight face for only a second, then grinned.

“Not saying I’m against it, though! Sounds like fun. Plus they _are_ all a bit scared of you.”

Pepper sighed loudly and threw up her hands in long-suffering exasperation. “ _Fine_ , let’s do it. But if it all goes wrong, I’m blaming _you_ , Adam.”

* * *

Aziraphale and Crowley were the first to arrive, as planned. The Bentley roared through the village and screeched to a stop beside the hall, all to the intense irritation of R.P. Tyler, who had been walking his dog nearby. Said founder of the Tadfield Neighbourhood Watch marched right over to speak with the driver, before paling slightly at the sight of him and making himself scarce.

“This better bloody be worth it,” Crowley muttered as he opened the passenger door for Aziraphale.

“I’m sure it will, my dear.” The angel paused for a moment, then amended his statement. “It should at the very least be an _interesting_ evening. ‘Worth it’ is somewhat relative, darling.”

Crowley groaned, partly at the prospect of the frankly hellish evening ahead of them, and partly to cover his blush at the endearment. The demon bent at the waist and pretended to check his blood-red lipstick in the wing-mirror, instead taking the opportunity to drain the rush of colour from his cheeks. He was supposed to look _pale_ and _ghostly_ and _goth_ , dammit, not red-faced and gooey. Although... completely-and-utterly-in-love-with-your-partner _was_ technically a look that worked for this character.

The angel waited patiently for the demon to finish, smoothing down the front of his own pinstripe suit and checking his costume was in order. As soon as Crowley straightened up (as much as the serpent ever did), Aziraphale offered him an arm, and they strode towards to doorway to the village hall together.

“Hey guys!” Brian called out as soon as they walked in. The teen was wearing a skeleton onesie that was probably a few years old, judging by the way it was a couple of sizes too small for his height. He was over by the food table, unpacking a large picnic bag full of plates of snacks helpfully labelled with spooky puns.

Adam was at the other end of the hall, directing Pepper and Wensleydale as they pinned up black and orange Halloween bunting across the width of the room. The accountant-to-be was dressed in a fairly standard zombie costume, albeit with the addition of a pristine pair of glasses that didn't quite match the rest of the look. Pepper appeared to be wearing one of Anathema's outfits, complete with her own pair of specs. The Antichrist, on the other hand, seemed to have painted himself grey, and was wearing floor-length black and grey robes along with a rather impressive blue flame-shaped wig.

The Them all dropped what they were doing and hurried over to greet the celestials.

“Great costumes,” Crowley said approvingly, then turned to Aziraphale to tease. “You recognise them all, angel?”

“Oh, I should think so. Though I assume there’s something missing from your costume, Adam?”

“Eh?” Crowley said, looking the robed teen up and down. “Looks good to me. Even got the contacts.”

“Nah, he means my personal guard,” Adam grinned. “Here, Dog!”

On command, the most adorably intimidating beast of a creature ran into the room, its tail wagging furiously. Dog skidded to a stop at Adam’s side, and sat there proudly for the group to admire his costume.

Crowley stared down at the three heads looking up at him, genuinely impressed. “Wow. Nice Cerberus you’ve got there.”

“Thanks,” Adam said. “We all helped.”

The angel knelt down to pet the ex-hellhound and admire the extra two heads at a closer distance. “They really are impressive. Where did you get the eyes from?”

“They do them online,” Brian said. “There’s whole, like, sewing patterns you can get for different kinds of dogs. Wensley’s parents have an old sewing machine, so it didn’t take long. Pepper’s mum found us the fabric.”

“Nicely done,” Aziraphale said, getting to his feet. “And, ah, what do you think of our costumes?”

“Very stylish,” Wensleydale said, in a manner that suggested he’d been told to say that ahead of time, possibly by Pepper.

“You’re the parents from that film, aren’t you?” Adam said, looking to Brian for support. “The spooky family, you know.”

“ _The Addams Family_ ,” Brian filled in. “Gomez and Morticia.”

“Bang on!” Crowley said. “Great films. You seen them?”

“Only the first one,” Adam said. “I think the dad’s suit was more of a purple pinstripe in that one, though?”

“Really?” Aziraphale said, confused. “Are you –” he began, but a groan from Crowley cut him off.

“You’re talking about the animated ones, aren’t you?”

“There are other versions?”

The demon groaned again, louder. “They’re not even that old! They’re from the 90s!”

“That’s, like, over thirty years ago,” Pepper said derisively.

“Yeah, I thought _my_ costume was old!” Adam laughed.

“That’s from ’97!” Crowley said desperately.

“I think you’ve finally managed to make a six-thousand-year-old feel old,” Aziraphale chuckled.

The Them found this hilarious, and they were still laughing about it as they went back to setting up for the party, such as it was going to be. Crowley grumbled something about ‘kids these days’ and began pacing in a totally-not-anxious way as they waited for the other guests to turn up.

* * *

The delegates from Heaven arrived next.

The Earthen front were ready for them by the time the crack of ozone appeared in the car park outside. The six of them (plus one Dog dressed as Cerberus) stood their ground as the angels filed in and glared at their hosts. Crowley rested his right hand supportively on the small of Aziraphale’s back.

“You’re not dressed up,” Adam said eventually, breaking the silence. “You’re all meant to be dressed up.”

“I am,” Michael said with an empty smile.

“It’s a good likeness,” Crowley said appreciatively, nodding at the silvery scales and pointed teeth that looked like they’d been ripped straight from Dagon’s corporation. “Almost like you’ve met her before.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael said sweetly.

“The rest of you should be dressed up too,” Adam said, a simple statement that somehow also felt like an unavoidable command.

“You first,” Pepper said decisively, pointing at Sandalphon. “We brought some spare costumes, and I know _exactly_ which one is for you.”

Sandalphon looked at Gabriel for direction, but the violet-eyed archangel just shrugged. Apparently he’d been overruled on this whole thing by Michael, so was just grumpily going along with everything. He hadn’t even looked at Aziraphale yet.

Michael nodded to Sandalphon, and he, Pepper, and Wensleydale disappeared into the little changing nook the Them had set up in the corner of the room. The archangels continued to stand there, doing nothing.

“Come on,” Adam said in that same subtly commanding tone. “Do you want to have an outfit chosen for you, or are you going to do it yourself?”

Uriel rolled their eyes and snapped a phone into existence. They typed something in, and then began scrolling. Gabriel continued to say nothing and avoid everyone’s eyes.

One of the benefits of dressing a celestial being for Halloween is that it doesn’t really take long, what with the miracles and all. Sandalphon stepped out from behind the screen only a minute later, skin green and bolts jutting from his neck. His suit had switched from its usual bland tan to green and black, but other than that there was very little change. The resemblance was striking.

“Right then,” Pepper said cheerfully. “Who’s next?”

Gabriel took one look at Sandalphon’s new look and scrambled for his own miracled phone. He punched something in, then immediately snapped into the first outfit he saw.

The rest of the group burst out laughing.

“What?” Gabriel said, staring round at them all.

Brian was doubled over, wheezing. Wensleydale was struggling valiantly to keep a straight face, but Adam and Pepper just let loose. Even Michael had to supress a grin. Uriel just rolled their eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Gabriel demanded, sounding more and more like a petulant child. “I searched ‘Halloween costume’ and this is the first thing that came up! That means it’s the best result!”

“Mm hmm, oh yeah,” said Crowley, trying to be serious. “Yep, definitely the best result.” He caught Aziraphale’s eye and the two of them dissolved into giggles again.

“ _What?!_ ”

Surprisingly (or not, depending on how much you knew about archangels), Uriel was the one who shut Gabriel up. “You’re dressed as a slice of bacon, Gabriel. Of course they’re finding it hilarious, you look ridiculous. You’re meant to choose something scary. You just a laughing stock.”

A moment later, Uriel was dressed in all black, a pair of cat ears sat on their head, and whiskers drawn neatly across their cheeks in gold. The burning fire of their gaze warned anyone off from daring to laugh at that.

“But that’s not scary either!” Gabriel spluttered.

“I’m a black cat,” Uriel said, slowly and patronisingly. “Humans often think of them as symbols of bad luck, and they were believed to be one of the most common animals used as a witch’s familiar. That is perfectly on theme. _You_ , on the other hand, are dressed as bacon. Shut up and learn some Earth culture.”

Adam looked pointedly at Wensleydale and Pepper. “Told you it would work,” he muttered quietly.

“Come on,” Brian said cheerfully to Gabriel. “I know what you can dress as.”

The skeletal teenager grabbed the archangel by the elbow and half-dragged him towards the changing area. No one made any move to stop him.

“Oi, Crowley?” Brian called over his shoulder. “Grab us some loo roll, would you?”

The demon grinned widely and snapped his fingers. “All sorted.”

* * *

Hell arrived while Brian was still converting Gabriel into a mummy (one costume that was far too fun to be snapped into existence). They came through the door one by one, each looking more grumpy than the last.

“Nice costume, Lord Beelzebub,” Crowley said, straight-faced.

“Thanks,” came the answer, no hint of irony detected. Said Prince of Hell was currently swamped in a giant pumpkin costume, their usual fly-shaped headwear swapped for (or at least covered by) a leafy orange hat.

Dagon was next, looking surprisingly neat and clean in a plain grey suit, hair piled on top of her head and looking a far cry from her usual fishy creepiness.

“What’re you dressed as?” Pepper demanded.

“Your future as a corporate zombie,” Dagon replied silkily. She moved to stand directly opposite Michael, and the two of them stared daggers at each other.

“Bloody uncanny,” Crowley muttered in Aziraphale’s ear, and he rather had to agree.

Next came Hastur, who was quite plainly dressed as a Satanic Nun. So accurately, in fact – including the singe marks down one side of the habit – that Crowley suspected this was in fact a trophy from the now-dissolved Chattering Order.

Then came... Ligur.

“Sorry, what exactly are you dressed as?” Aziraphale asked.

“A clown. Internet said they were scary.”

“Right.”

The demon was dressed as a clown in the loosest possible sense. It honestly looked like someone had described a clown costume to him and then he’d created it himself, piece by piece, without ever having seen one.

The rainbow wig on his head, rather than being curly and round, was long and flowing, like something Aziraphale had seen several times at Pride. He had a little red circle stuck on the tip of his nose, and similar splotches on his cheeks, all of which looked closer to those little dot stickers than clown makeup. His shoes were, admittedly, comically oversized, but being black boots rather than clown shoes had an entirely different effect. The striped suspenders and rainbow tutu were also interesting additions.

Eric followed up the rear, and he looked like the only one of the lot of them that actually wanted to be here. He was dressed in a traditional witch’s costume, complete with pointed hat and broomstick, and looked positively thrilled by the whole thing.

“Hang on, that’s not fair,” Sandalphon said suddenly. “They’ve got six, we’ve only got five.”

“Five?” Wensleydale said, adjusting his glasses. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you only have four. _They_ have five.”

Sandalphon gave a pointed look at the celestial dressed as Gomez Addams, and Crowley bristled next to him. But Aziraphale got there first.

“I think it’s rather rude of you to claim me for your team when you never did any such thing when I was actually working for you. I am, quite firmly and irrevocably, on Earth’s side of things now.”

“And fuck off if you think I’m with that lot,” Crowley added, jerking a thumb in the direction of the Hell contingent. “Earthling through and through, me.”

Sandalphon largely ignored this response. “They still have one more!”

“I don’t mind being neutral,” Eric volunteered at once. “Or I can get a second one of me to join Heaven, if you want. Just... please don’t send me back. I’ve wanted to do something like this for ages.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but warm to the excitable demon. He struck the angel as being rather like Crowley, albeit less smooth and cool. Morticia Addams, on the other hand, was glaring at Eric like he was trying to dissolve him on the spot.

Aziraphale nudged him, and Crowley capitulated at once. “Fine, but watch it. Try anything and you’re heading straight back Downstairs.”

“Yes, sir,” Eric said immediately, flashing an apologetic look at Aziraphale that the angel didn’t quite understand. He’d have to ask Crowley about it later.

“Finished!” came a shout from the corner of the hall, and then Brian appeared, leading the way for a Gabriel so entirely wrapped in toilet roll that it seemed he _had_ to put his arms out in front of him so as not to walk into anything. He was the perfect cartoon mummy.

“Did you leave him any eyeholes, Brian?” Aziraphale asked sternly.

“Nope!” the teenager said brightly.

“What a shame,” came the deadpan response.

“Right then,” Adam said, calling for attention. Everyone focused their attention on the Antichrist, watching him carefully.

“This is a Halloween party. The idea is that you do everything humans normally would – you play games, you eat food, you have _fun_ – and through that you learn what it’s like for all of us down here. You’ve agreed to follow human rules while we’re here, and that means no attacking each other. It also means you’re not allowed to use miracles from now until the party’s over.”

A little chorus of protests went up, but Dog growled until Adam’s audience were silent again.

“You won’t use miracles, you won’t cheat at the games, and you _will_ participate in everything. This is about getting to know what kinds of things happen on Earth. So pay attention, and see if you can learn something.”

“Right!” Pepper said, stepping forward. “First up is apple bobbing!”

* * *

Dagon was _uncannily_ good at apple bobbing. She wasn’t even particularly sharp-toothed in her current corporation, and yet she was the quickest every time.

Crowley had already decided to skip this particular game, ostensibly because he didn’t want to ruin his lipstick, but mostly because of previous uncomfortable dealings with holy water. (Ligur also, understandably, sat out.) He did find Dagon’s skill slightly unfair, though. After all, apples were _his_ thing. He wasn’t going to risk trying it and failing, though.

“That’s a win for Hell,” the Lord of the Files grinned, too wide. She roughly wiped the water off her chin with the back of her hand, staring down Michael.

“It’s... it’s not a competition,” Aziraphale said hesitantly.

“It could be, though,” Crowley pointed out.

“Isn’t the point cooperation and learning to live alongside each other?”

“Nope,” Beelzebub said. “The point is to learn enough to know how to win.”

“Noss vewwy spawtthing off you,” Gabriel said through a mouthful of wet toilet paper. Everyone ignored him.

“Fine,” Michael said. “Game on.”

* * *

The teams, it was quickly decided, were Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Sandalphon on the Heavenly side, Beelzebub, Dagon, Hastur, and Ligur on the Hellish side, and Pepper, Wensleydale, Brian, and Eric representing Earth.

The latter detail was met with several attempts by the demons to convince Eric to throw their match-ups so that Hell would be victorious, but Eric remained steadfastly neutral. Apparently, as Pepper and Brian discovered by chatting to him at intervals, he was quite a fan of Earth culture. Particularly modern technology, fashion, and selfies.

Adam, Aziraphale, and Crowley were the referees, theoretically so that they could spot if anyone was cheating from the groups they had most experience with, but really just so that the ineffable couple wouldn’t ruin their outfits, and Adam could scare the rest of the celestials into order.

A chalkboard was found in one of the village hall’s cupboards, and the team scores written up.

One point to Hell for apple bobbing.

“Next up is the doughnut game!” Adam announced.

* * *

This particular iteration of the doughnut game involved a number of sugary ringed doughnuts hanging on a string, one for each contestant. The idea was that the participants had to eat their doughnuts in their entirety, without dropping any, without using their hands, and – crucially – without licking their lips.

“You’d be pitiful at this, angel,” Crowley murmured as they watched the teams line up.

“Excuse me! I’m rather an expert at eating things, thank you very much. You’re the one who never finishes your dessert.”

“Only because I know you want it.”

Aziraphale paused. “Oh.”

“You really didn’t know that?”

“No, well – I had... considered it a possibility, but...”

In the background, Adam counted down from three for the first row of contestants to start.

Crowley waved a hand, trying to move away from the cutesy part of this conversation before his cheeks matched too closely to his hair. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant. You’d be too focused on the flavour to eat it quickly, and you’d _definitely_ forget not to lick your lips.”

Aziraphale harrumphed. “Like you’d do any better.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

Gabriel cried out in frustration as half his doughnut fell to the floor. He stomped off like a toddler while Wensleydale cleared up the mess.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and two extra doughnuts found their way into the Addams’s hands. “Are we racing, or taking it in turns?”

Crowley scoffed. “Won’t be much of a race. You ready?”

“Of course.”

“Pepper, disqualified for licking your lips!” Adam called out.

“Three,” Aziraphale said. “Two. One. Go!”

Crowley opened his mouth, chomped, and swallowed his doughnut in one go before Aziraphale had even finished taking his first bite. “Told you it wouldn’t be much of a race. I’m a snake, see?”

In the background, Beelzebub was taking forever to finish eating their doughnut. They’d won by default out of their set, but there were still three other rows of each team to go, and timing was still important. 

“Mmm,” Aziraphale let out, entirely involuntarily. He caught Crowley’s raised eyebrows, though, and hurried on with his next bite.

“There you go, angel, halfway through. Let’s see if you can finish before Beez over there, yeah?”

Aziraphale took another bite, and focused on finishing it rather than tasting it. It was harder than he’d expected. It was just so sweet and sugary and –

“Licked your lips!” Crowley crowed triumphantly. “Told you!”

“Oh, now that wasn’t fair! You were distracting me!”

“Was not.”

“Yes, you were. I shall have to try it again.”

Crowley grinned. “Oh, will you now?” He summoned a third doughnut, and handed it over.

“Well done Beelzebub, doughnut finished. Next contestants, get ready!”

* * *

When all the doughnuts were gone (about a third of them just to Aziraphale), the results for the game stood at two disqualifications for Heaven (Sandalphon being the other weak point), three for Hell (Beelzebub being the only one to actually finish at all), and only one to Earth. The fastest time was Brian, by far, which meant the chalkboard got a mark for Earth’s team for that game.

Next up, Adam decided, was dancing.

* * *

“This isn’t a game!” Gabriel complained, having finally shed the layer of loo roll around his head.

“No, but if it were, Hell would be losing,” Aziraphale said, raising his eyebrows at whatever _that_ was that Hastur and Ligur were doing on the dancefloor.

“I dunno,” Crowley said. “They’re not the worst I’ve seen.”

“Dear, I don’t think you’re in any position to judge.”

“The game is,” Adam said over the dulcet tones of _The Monster Mash_ , “you have to be dancing whenever the music is playing. As soon as it stops, you freeze. If any of you make the slightest movement, you get disqualified. The last person still in the game wins a point for their team.”

It was, Aziraphale had to admit, massively entertaining watching his former colleagues attempt to dance for the first time in their several-thousand-year existence. There was, it appeared, a reason that angels, as a rule, don’t dance.

There was also, the group quickly found out, a reason that you don’t play Musical Statues with ethereal and occult beings who can exist perfectly well without heartbeats, breathing, or any kind of movement at all. It was eerie how still they could all make themselves, and all at the exact instant the music stopped playing.

“Adam, I don’t think this game is very fair,” Wensleydale said, after the entire Earth team except Eric were knocked out.”

“No,” the Antichrist agreed. “I don’t think we have a winner for this one.”

“Maybe we could play Musical Chairs instead?” Pepper suggested.

“No way,” Crowley said darkly. “I’ve seen how that kind of thing can end.”

No one dared ask him to elaborate.

* * *

At complaints from the participants, Musical Statues was eventually declared a three-way draw, and all of the teams got a mark on the scoreboard. That was one point to Heaven, and two each to Earth and Hell.

“Can we eat now?” Brian asked.

* * *

The food, mostly prepared by Deirdre Young and Brian’s dad, was all the usual things you’d expect to find at a children’s party, but with spooky names and puns everywhere. There were sausage rolls labelled as ‘mummified fingers’, hard-boiled eggs labelled as ‘chicken periods’, little iced biscuits in the shape of ghosts, and even a bowl of olives labelled ‘zombie eyes’. There were also several sandwiches and plates of vegetable sticks and houmous that apparently had not been named, either due to inherent lack of spookiness, or simply a lack of imagination on the labeller’s part.

Aziraphale, predictably, piled his plate high. Eric did the same, delighting in the ridiculous labels on everything. None of the other celestials made a move.

“You have to eat _something_ ,” Adam said. “You agreed to.”

“We are angels,” Gabriel began, in that self-obsessed, patronising voice that made his face look extra punchable. “We do not –”

“Oh, shut up, Gabriel, and eat a sandwich,” Aziraphale said.

It took everything in Crowley’s power not to snog him right then and there.

* * *

“Okay, so it’s not a particularly Halloween-y game,” Brian began. “But it’s fun, and it’s played at parties sometimes. So we’re doing it.”

Each team was sat cross-legged on the floor around a paper plate. The plate had on it a large bar of chocolate.

“The aim of the game is to finish your bar of chocolate before any of the other teams,” Brian explained. “But you can only do so by putting on the necessary items of clothing, cutting up the chocolate with a knife and fork, and eating the chocolate with the cutlery.”

“That’s a stupid game,” Ligur said.

“Yep!” the Them said in chorus.

“Which is exactly why we’re doing it,” Crowley finished.

“Each team has a six-sided die,” Brian continued. “You send the die around the circle. Everyone rolls it. Whenever anyone gets a six, the current player eating the chocolate has to take off the hat, scarf, and gloves, pass it to the player who just got a six, and then that player has to put on the clothes. You can only start using the cutlery when you have the hat, scarf, _and_ gloves on. Everyone understand?”

There was a murmur of assent from the assembled crowd. Brian sat down with the Earth team.

“Okay then,” Adam called out. “On your marks. Get set. Go!”

For a minute there was nothing but the sound of furious rolling as people passed the dice around, waiting for that elusive first six. Then Gabriel got one, shouted “fuck yes!” louder than any archangel should ever say anything at all, and the next ten minutes was a flurry of chaos.

The humans were the ones with the most experience at this ridiculous little game. That didn’t actually make them any good at it. The demons seemed to be at a disadvantage for not really knowing how to use cutlery. Heaven, therefore, took an early lead, having both the physical strength to cut through solid chocolate with minimal effort, and the ability to get the chocolate onto the fork without breaking it up further or dropping it. Once Hell figured out how forks worked, they began to claw back a little of the distance that they were trailing in last place, but in the end it wasn’t enough. Heaven won the point, followed less than a minute later by Earth, and a dismal four minutes and thirty seconds after that by Hell.

Which, unhelpfully, brought the scoreboard back to even for every team.

* * *

“Is trick-or-treating a game?” Aziraphale asked slowly. “I thought it was just what children did to show off their costumes and get free treats?”

“I mean, yeah, but we can turn it _into_ a game,” Crowley insisted. “See who brings back the most sweets.”

“Hell are _definitely_ going to cheat with that,” Eric said, nodding at his own insight.

“Anyway, it would look weird to have a bunch of teenagers and adults going trick-or-treating at 3pm,” Pepper reasoned. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“Ugh, fine. Well, what do we do instead then? As a tie-breaker?”

“I don’t know... a quiz?” Aziraphale offered

“What, on the history of Halloween? Sounds a little dull, angel. And not completely fair.”

“Maybe on the spirit of it?” Wensleydale suggested.

“Yes,” Adam said. “I’ve got it.”

* * *

“I want you to all write down what you’ve learned today on your team’s piece of paper. When the time’s up, you’re going to bring it here and explain to everyone what you’ve written down. Make sense?”

A few scattered ‘yes’s and no ‘no’s was enough. “Right then, you have ten minutes. Start!”

It was interesting, watching them work. There was a lot of sitting around, at first, with quiet muttered arguing about what to put. But eventually, the thick marker pens were picked up, and angels and demons alike began to write.

After ten minutes, both groups of celestials were still scribbling furiously.

“Give them five more minutes,” Aziraphale whispered to Adam. He nodded.

When the extra time was up, Heaven was the first to volunteer to present (ever eager to show their superiority). They stood up at the front with their large piece of paper, in silence.

“So...” Pepper prompted. “Who wants to start?”

Michael stepped forward. “I will.”

Adam gestured for her to begin.

“You aren’t all that different from us,” she said clearly.

The whole audience sat in shock. Only Dagon clawed back enough presence of mind to say “wait, what?”

“Demons and humans aren’t as different from us, or indeed each other, as we thought. That’s what we’ve learned today.”

“Do you want to... elaborate on that?”

“Not particularly,” she said dryly.

“Anyone else, then?”

Uriel stepped forward. “Demons are Evil, and Angels are Good. That’s still true. And humans are still short-lived and largely inconsequential on an individual level. But at the same time, they are all... people.”

“Wow,” Aziraphale breathed.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Crowley put a hand on his arm. “Wait.”

“They are people that make no sense,” Uriel clarified. “Humans are an incomprehensible mess of a group with ridiculous customs. They spend much of their time focused on what is not true rather than what is, and live large portions of their lives in their own heads. They cannot agree on anything, and their constant questioning of each other prevents them acting in any sort of coherent manner, leaving them divided and vulnerable. Demons, at least, behave as a united front. Humans are absurd and doomed to failure.”

“And there it is,” Crowley said quietly.

Aziraphale elbowed him in the waist. “It’s a start.”

“Anyone else got anything to say?” Adam asked.

“Umm... I learned what toilet roll is used for?” Gabriel said, flashing what was clearly supposed to be a charming smile.

“No, you didn’t,” Brian said flatly.

Gabriel shut up. Sandalphon said nothing.

The angels sat down again, and the demons got up after them.

“We just wrote a list of everything we did today,” Dagon said slowly. She began to tap bullet points on the poster that Hastur was holding up. “Uh, we learned how to play apple bobbing. We learned how to play the doughnut game. We learned what doughnuts were. We learned how to play Musical Statues...” She trailed off. “But yes. I agree. With the... with the angels. They’re not so different from us. And humans are... far more like _people_ than I thought they were before.”

“Do the rest of you agree?” the Antichrist asked, looking each of the remaining demons in the eye. They each nodded and looked away. “Good,” Adam said simply. “Then I’m glad you’ve all learned something.”

* * *

“Well, that didn’t go as horrifically as it could have done,” Aziraphale said brightly as the pair of them climbed back into the Bentley. The representatives from Upstairs and Downstairs had left half an hour ago, taking their posters with them as agenda points for the next staff meeting. The remaining partygoers had tidied up (with rather frivolous use of miracles), and now the teens were stood around just outside the village hall, ready to wave them off.

“It’s a start,” Crowley accepted. “A good start, even. ‘Humans are people’ is a bold step for them.”

“Exactly,” Aziraphale said, giving a happy little wiggle. “With any luck, that will lead them to understanding why God wanted them to be saved from the Apocalypse. Or at least, didn’t stop them from being saved.”

“Ever the optimist, you,” Crowley said. He started the engine and rolled down the window to wave goodbye to the Them, then pulled away at breakneck speed. “I hope you’re right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I really did type ‘Halloween costume’ into Google looking for inspiration, and yes, [this](https://www.amazon.co.uk/Adults-British-Breakfast-Ladies-Costume/dp/B00BBB68EE) really is the first result I got. Enjoy.
> 
> While I was midway through writing this fic, after I'd already chosen the characters' costumes, [this](https://perfectlyineffable.tumblr.com/post/633529722161250304/naniiebimworks-aziraphale-and-crowley-in-morticia) beautiful artwork popped up on my dash, followed by [this](https://perfectlyineffable.tumblr.com/post/633529807233236992/naniiebimworks-snooky-snog-halloween-costume) even cuter version. I'm so glad I'm not the only one who thought the incredibly in-love Addams would be perfect for these two!


End file.
